


Just Might Find 1

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [4]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Beating, Biting, Dom/sub, First Time, Hook Up, Kink, M/M, Masochism, Rough Sex, Sadism, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-21
Updated: 2005-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill Fichtner runs into Sean Bean at a certain kinky club in London. Sean bottoms. Bill tops. And neither of them have plans for the afternoon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 1

Sean's started going to the Establishment for his workouts. Nine times out of ten nothing comes of it, but then there's that elusive ten percent of the time where he finds someone who wants a nice sweaty fuck in the locker room and isn't thrown by how much Sharpe wants to bottom. It's also a damn nice place to work out; the equipment is new and the pool is huge.

So today he's taking a swim, just finishing off his fiftieth lap and easing himself out of the pool for a break. He grabs his towel, dries his face off, and heads to the benches at the side of the room so he'll be out of the way and can watch the other people swimming, or standing around in swimsuits, or the occasional mistress ordering a slave to do another lap. Now there's incentive to exercise. Sean's had times a domme telling him to work out would have been just about the only thing that would get him to do it.

The domme and her swimmer boy amuse Bill as he does his laps in the lane next to the boy. The voice Bill hears each time his head breaks the surface of the water is calm and even, but authoritative, and he occupies himself with trying to figure out if the swimming is a reward, a punishment, or something the slave wanted to do that he asked his Mistress to help him with.

_One more reason to work out at an Establishment gym,_ Bill thinks, climbing out of the pool. _The surroundings are more entertaining._ And speaking of entertaining, there's someone he knows sitting on a bench drying off his blond hair. _Wonder if he remembers me._

Grabbing up a towel, he makes his way over to Sean's bench. "She's really got him working hard," he says, nodding toward the domme.

"Lucky him," Sean says before getting the towel around his shoulders and looking up. And he grins. "Christ, what the hell are you doing in London?" he asks. He stands up and offers Bill his hand.

"I've been working my ass off lately and so I'm taking a bit of a break," Bill says, gripping Sean's hand firmly. "I just renewed my membership and I wanted a vacation at the same time, so ... here I am. And you?"

"I've moved back," Sean says. Somehow it's easier saying that to someone he hasn't seen in years, someone who wasn't standing there watching while two marriages crumbled into dust. "My husband and I've separated, and I wanted to be back on familiar ground while I'm patching myself up."

"Sorry to hear that," Bill says, oddly glad he never kept in touch much with David after BHD. "A change of scenery helps," he adds, remembering his sister's divorce.

"More than you'd think," Sean says, scratching his hand through his hair. "Anyway, that's not exactly a pleasant conversational topic, so maybe I should prove I'm a guy and ask if you keep up with football over here? Because I'd be happy to indoctrinate, ah, brainwash, erm, introduce you to Sheffield United if you don't already have a club to call your own." He grins.

"The closest I have is a niece who's a DC United fan," Bill says with a grin. "I think she'll forgive me. Particularly if I don't tell her. And I won't if there's beer involved."

"The beer's on me," Sean assures him. "It's good to see you again. Are you just getting started now or are you finishing up? Because if you're ready to call it a day, I could give you a head start on that beer -- a drink up at the bar, rather." Sean shrugs. "I could do another fifty or I could stop and catch up. I'm easy."

"Are you?" Bill says, unable to resist the line. _Surely he's flirting._

Sean coughs, half-laughing, scratching at he back of his neck as he grins. "I have been," he says. "I didn't mean to say it quite like that, but..." But now he's wondering if Bill tops and if there's a chance he could get a nice no-strings shag from him this afternoon.

While Bill would never have figured Sean for a sub, he's getting a strong enough vibe from him that he feels safe in reaching out to grasp Sean's wrist, holding it firmly. "But?" he says, his voice stern. _Fuck, if I'm wrong here...._

_Oh, Jesus fucking Christ._ Sean stares hard at Bill, so instantly hard and _needing_ it that he can't find his voice for a minute. "But if you want a shag before we get that beer, I'm game." With the way Bill's gripping his wrist, he doesn't think he really needs to clarify this, but it's better to get it out in the open. "I bottom, just bottom, these days. That's all right?"

"More than all right," Bill says, tightening his grip. "I don't sub. At all." He moves in a little closer, not noticing that behind them the domme with the swimming sub is grinning just a little. "Bottoming in the classic sense, or does it go deeper than that?"

"It goes deeper," Sean says quietly, "but I've been pretty fucking clingy with my tops in the last month, and that's probably territory we shouldn't get into without talking about it." Fuck. It's so predictable at this point; anyone who looks like he doms and Sean wants to go down. "But I can do a fuck with no strings, and you can hurt me if you're into that." He can't turn with Bill's grip on his wrist, but he glances slightly over his shoulder, trying to indicate his back. "Bit marked right now, if you want to see part of what I've been asking for around here."

"Sounds good," Bill says, letting go of Sean's wrist as he moves to look Sean's back over. _Too bad about the subbing thing, I'd have liked to see him crawling._ "Nice work," he says, reaching out to lightly trace one of the marks on Sean's back. "Have you ever had anyone beat you on top of a beating?"

"Yeah," Sean says, and he shivers as Bill traces the marks. "I've been trying to pace myself. Not get in over my head. But if you want that... Christ. My safeword's hydrangea."

"We can start out easier," Bill says, his fingers still light on Sean's marks. "See how it goes and if we like what the other can do... I'll be here a while."

_Christ._ Sean bites at his lower lip, not sure whether to ask for clarification -- _does that mean you'd want more than one scene, then, if this goes well?_ or whether he'd want to take Bill up on it even if it is. He's mostly done one-offs this past month, except for Neal, and that was primarily because there aren't nearly as many men at the club who know their way around a singletail as there are who know their way around other things.

But he's not one to say no to anything before he knows what he's talking about, so he just nods, pressing back into Bill's touch. "All right," he says softly. "I've been having trouble with voice lately; I should warn you about that up-front." God. Sean's so fucking _damaged_ these days. And while that works all right in scenes with specific goals that have doms answering to those goals and knowing what they're in for from the start, there's a part of Sean that's nervous as hell about going into a scene that's being arranged on the fly. _Goddamnit. Fuck it. I can do this. I can do this._ "But whatever your expectations are going to be -- if I know them, if I'm clear on them, I'll give you the best I've got to offer."

"First of all, relax," Bill says, almost as if he were soothing a skittish horse. _Which I may well be._ "We don't have to do anything but fuck," and here he smiles, resting his hand lightly on Sean's shoulder. "I'd enjoy that a lot. Or I can bring a little pain into it. Or we can sit down and you can tell me what you want and I'll see if it's something that works for me."

He's not sure why he's doing this, but there's something about the way that Sean sounds almost lost, that brings out Bill's strong streak of protectiveness towards submissives. He hasn't made the mistake of thinking a sub is weak in a very long time, but he knows that it's not an easy thing, being vulnerable, and he always tries to make any sub he plays with feel as safe as he can.

"Can we start easy?" Sean asks softly. "Just fuck me, and anything you want to do with hands or teeth would be perfect. And then maybe we talk after. Would that be all right?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Bill says. "I'm actually staying here right now while I look for a short term flat; do you want to come back up to my room?" He likes this, the ease of it; even with some of the emotional undercurrents going on here, they're still two gay men looking for the quickest way to get down to the important business of fucking.

"Sounds good." Sean relaxes even more at the way Bill seems to have such an easy time taking the lead. It's probably obvious how much he needs that right now, someone who's willing to grab him by the throat -- or whatever part of him's most appropriate -- and push him to give, to _serve_, the way he needs to. "Lead the way? Please."

Tossing his towel over his shoulder, Bill smiles. "You need to grab a bag, or do you want to come back down for it later?"

"I can come back for it," Sean says, struck with the urge to finish that up with _sir_ and not entirely sure why he doesn't just say it. "If you don't mind me walking upstairs with you like this." _Like this_ meaning damp, mostly naked, and obviously hard. He's not sure that's a downside.

Sliding his hand down to stroke Sean's ass through the damp suit, Bill grins. "It's a good look on you." He doesn't bother with a lot of small talk as they head to the elevators and then take the short trip up to his floor. _If he were my boy,_ Bill thinks, _I'd have him crawl the length of the corridor. In front of me._ It's not that unusual a thought -- Bill likes looking at men and speculating -- although the nice thing about thinking it here at the Establishment is that there's a slightly better chance of thought becoming reality than there is elsewhere.

The nice thing about this -- a random chance encounter with someone Sean's only met a few times here at the club during a workout -- is that it doesn't have to lead to a lot of talking or negotiation. It can be as simple as Sean rolling over and Bill taking him up on it. Sean doesn't have a hell of a lot of modesty when it comes to walking upstairs in nothing but short swim trunks and a pair of nipple rings. It wouldn't occur to him to bother with modesty here. More than anything he's curious about what Bill likes, what kind of fuck he's about to get. _Are you fast? Rough? Mean? Cruel? Do you draw things out or do you like to get straight to it?_ It's all the best kinds of curiosity rolled into one.

Bill's room is a little further than the play rooms, and by the time they get there, Bill's already thought of half a dozen things to do to Sean, and then rejected them all out of hand. _Don't crowd the guy, even if he goes give off every vibe in the book,_ he tells himself as he opens the door.

"Bit of a mess," he says with an unapologetic grin. "But the bed's clear."

"That's good enough for me," Sean says, grinning back. He runs both hands through his hair, trying to untangle it a little. It's still going to have that chlorine smell from the pool, but the least he can do is try to get it fingercombed. He's a little cooler now that he's up in Bill's room, and it's making his nipples harden as his skin tightens up into gooseflesh. That's not going to last very long, though. Not the way Bill's looking at him. "How do you want me?" he asks, and it's a struggle not to drop to his knees and add _sir_ to the end of the question.

_Begging for it,_ Bill thinks, moving to stand in front of Sean. _And I'll get you there, too._ "A little warmer, I think," he says, reaching out to rub his thumb across one tight nipple. "The rings are a good look on you," he continues, adding a little pressure.

"Thank you," Sean murmurs. And he can't help it; he straightens up his posture and slides his hands behind his back, threading his fingers together, spreading his legs a little wider. "Feels good," he says.

Pausing, Bill steps back a little. "I know you said you weren't interested in going down, but do you realize how much your body's telling me right now?" It's a bit of a risk, but he's going to end up responding to Sean's physical cues if they keep going like this. And the last thing Bill wants to do is overstep negotiated limits.

_Oh, fuck._ Sean winces. "I'm sorry," he says. "Christ. It's not that I'm not interested." _Couldn't be further from that._ "But not everyone comes into a random afternoon shag -- or scene --willing to do lengthy aftercare, maybe have dinner or somesuch after. If I go down, I'm likely to go down hard. If you want that, it's yours. If not, I'll try not to drop like a brick." Sean manages to get through enough of his embarrassment to grin. _Oh, Christ, I hope he doesn't just kick me out. I'm supposed to be better at this. Mixed signals. No wonder he's confused._

Bill can't help raising an eyebrow at the way Sean makes dinner after a scene sound like it's an imposition. _Who the hell have you been scening with?_ he wonders, trying not to frown.

"I don't really consider the idea of having dinner with you a burden in any way," he finally says. "I've always figured that aftercare lasts as long as the person receiving it need it to last." He steps in close again, brushing his fingers lightly over Sean's throat.

And if the reassurance wasn't enough, Bill's fingers on Sean's throat are much too much to resist. He leans into the touch, eyes closing. "Feels good," he whispers. "_Please._"

"Let's see how you look saying that naked and on your knees," Bill says, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest.

Dropping feels so natural. Sean shoves his swimsuit off, tossing it to the side, and he gets on his knees, hands behind his back, legs spread. He looks up, exhales the last of his tension, and slides his tongue out over his lips. "Please," he murmurs, "let me serve you for the afternoon, sir." _There._ God, that feels good.

After nodding, Bill moves around Sean while he tries to think of what to do. "Forehead to the floor," he says, leaning down to press lightly on Sean's back, right between his shoulder blades. "And stay that way."

Bending down without falling isn't as easy as it looks, but Sean's had a lot of time to practice in the last few weeks. He gets his forehead on the floor, spreading his legs even wider for balance.

"Good boy," Bill says, heading for the bathroom. He leaves the door open and starts up the shower, watching for Sean's reaction in the mirror.

Sean stays down despite the noises from the bathroom. He doesn't have to wonder why Bill's gone, doesn't have to wonder when he'll be back. He's been told to stay, and he's staying.

This is part of what he loves about being under for someone -- the lack of questions in his head, the ability to set aside his thoughts and just _be_ for a while. When Bill wants more from him, he'll tell him so -- or just take it. Sean's felt grateful for every good scene he's had in the last month, and so far he's feeling that same sense of gratitude kneeling here for Bill. It's _good_ being here like this.

Impressed, Bill climbs in the shower and quickly rinses the chlorine from the pool off. "Boy," he calls out as he turns the water off. "Have you ever done any personal body service?"

"Yes, sir," Sean calls out from the floor. "May I--" _shit, don't know if he wants me going full-out and using boy_\-- "may I help you with something, sir?"

Although he doesn't know it, Sean gets a lot of points for asking rather than just coming in and assuming. "Come on in here and dry me off," Bill calls, curious to see if Sean will walk or crawl.

Sean's on the floor already; there's no reason to get back on his feet when he can make his way to Bill on his hands and knees. It's slower, maybe, but crawling feels better than walking. He only gets to his feet once he's in the bathroom and he's found the towels, and he starts off with Bill's shoulders, standing behind him and gently rubbing at his hair before working his way down each arm and then rubbing the water off his back. The towel's warm, maybe off a heated shelf, Sean realizes, and while he was never stellar at domestic service, it feels good being able to offer that to Bill right now.

_He really wants this,_ Bill thinks, feeling himself settle into the scene now. Pain may end up being a part of it, but he knows that what he's seeing is a man who needs to lose himself for a while. _And I can do that._

He remains silent while Sean dries him off, pleased that, while not as polished as an Establishment slave, Sean knows how it's supposed to be done. Once Sean's dropped back to his knees and is dealing with Bill's legs, Bill drops a hand to stroke Sean's damp hair. "Good boy," he finally says when Sean finishes up and bends down, his head on the floor at Bill's feet.

The praise streaks through Sean and has him feeling relief and arousal all over. This is what he's been after with all these scenes at the club -- sometimes finding it, sometimes not -- that space where someone else is in control and Sean can sink far enough into trust to feel like he doesn't have to worry about anything. "Thank you, sir," Sean murmurs.

"Spread your knees a little," Bill says, grabbing a bottle of lube out of his shaving kit. Crouching down behind Sean, he slicks up a couple of fingers and teases his way down Sean's cleft. "How much do you want it, boy?"

"Oh, God," Sean breathes, forcing himself not to squirm. "Please, sir, I want it so much -- need it -- your fingers, _please_. Please."

"Just my fingers?" Bil asks, before bending closer. He lets his breath wash over Sean's skin and then licks, just once, over Sean's hole. "That all you want, boy?"

Sean groans, not having expected that _at all_, and he has to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching back and spreading himself open. "Please, sir, I'd beg for anything you wanted to give me, Christ, your tongue felt so good, sir. Please, more?"

Bill grins as he licks Sean a few more times before sliding a finger into him. "Fucking hungry for it," he murmurs. "Tell me what you'd do to get it, boy."

"Spread myself like a whore, to start with, sir," Sean says immediately. "I'd beg to return the favor, beg to give you my mouth or my arse any way you wanted them--" It always seems so strange offering things this way; Sean's already given himself to Bill for the afternoon, so in a sense it seems like he's only offering Bill things that are already his for the taking. "I'd beg to come for you, or beg to hold back from coming for as long as you wanted me to, please, oh God, please..." He clenches hard around Bill's finger, feeling greedy and knowing he's only going to get more desperate. "Please, sir, _please_, anything, _more_, please."

"I like the way you beg, boy," Bill says, suddenly shoving his fingers in hard and working them roughly in and out of Sean while he bends and bites down hard on Sean's cheek.

Not moving just became one hell of a lot harder, and Sean's glad Bill likes the way he begs, because he has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot more of it. "Fuck, yes, _yes_, Christ that's so fucking good, _please_," Sean gasps. "Hurts so fucking good, sir."

Bill doesn't answer, choosing instead to move his mouth to a new spot on Sean's ass. He bites down again, sucking hard as he does. _Let's get you good and marked up; something I can see later when I fuck you._

Marks are perfect. Sean won't be able to see them later without a lot of fancy head-craning and looking into mirrors, but he'll feel them every time he sits down, and he'll be able to squirm himself deep into his couch at home and have the ache take his mind off things for a few days. "Yes," Sean pants, "sir, yes, _please_, fuck, yes, oh God, thank you thank you _fuck_ thank you... Christ, sir, please, more, please, need to be hurt so much...!"

_If you were my boy,_ Bill thinks, _I'd get you trained out of telling me what you need._ But Sean's not his boy, and really, the begging is pretty damn good. After a few more twists of his fingers, he pulls out, slapping Sean on the ass. "Bed," he says. "I'm too old for this on the floor crap."

So is Sean, honestly, and his knees are very fucking grateful for the order. "Yes, sir," he says, and he turns around so he can start crawling to the bed -- he hasn't been told to stand yet.

This is what Bill wanted to see earlier, out in the corridor, and now he follows Sean out into the bedroom, appreciating the way Sean looks as he crawls. There's no slinking, but neither is there a great deal of shame obvious in Sean's posture, and Bill approves of that. Shame is good, it has its place, but not here and now.

Right now the overwhelming sense of gratitude is starting to give way to anticipation. Anything Sean gets is going to be good, whether that's more pain or more orders to serve or just a simple hard fuck. Hell, even just begging feels good, and as Sean climbs up on the bed, he's trying to figure out what he should beg for next, if he should keep begging now at all. He stays on all fours and keeps his eyes lowered, finally figuring that when Bill wants to hear more begging, he'll order it. _God, I hope I'm not fucking anything up._

Moving around on the bed in front of Sean, Bill grabs a handful of Sean's hair as he sits down. "Let's have that mouth of yours, boy," he says. "Slow and careful."

Sean crawls forward just enough to reach Bill's cock, and he licks around the head -- nice and easy -- before licking his lips and slowly sinking down on it. His own cock jerks; the first taste of someone new is always goddamned arousing, and Bill tastes warm and clean and incredibly damned good. _Thank you thank you thank you..._

"You take direction well," Bill murmurs, keeping his close grip on Sean's hair. He stays as still as he can, letting Sean do all the work and giving the occasional moan or gasp when Sean finds one of his sensitive spots.

Every time Sean gets one of those sounds, he concentrates on what he was doing, what motions, licks, pressure get that reaction out of Bill. He wants to be good at this, wants Bill coming away from the scene feeling like he got something worthwhile out of it, and while Sean knows he's not going to give Bill the best blowjob he's ever had, he's sure as hell going to do the best he can.

Bill doesn't really think about best, although if pressed he'd say that this blowjob was up there somewhere among the top ten. What matters now is the way that Sean's mouth feels on his cock and the way he's doing such a good job of reading Bill's signals. Tugging down on Sean's hair, Bill thrusts up, wondering if Sean likes choking.

He definitely does, and he presses down and holds, trying to get the feeling across that whatever Bill wants from him, he can take. _I can give you this. Please, let me._

Gritting his teeth to keep from coming, Bill thrusts up into Sean's mouth, sometimes allowing Sean up enough to breathe and sometimes not. "Like fucking choking on it, don't you, boy?"

_Christ, yes._ Sean can't say it, but he's putting everything he's got into it, making sure Bill can feel just how much Sean loves doing this, choking on it, giving his best and not thinking any further than right here, right now, being as good as he can for the dom he's under.

Although it's tempting to just let go and come in Sean's mouth, Bill manages to pull Sean back off of his cock. "Fuck, you're good, boy," he says, panting a little as he looks down at Sean's slightly swollen lips.

"Thank you, sir," Sean says, grinning up at Bill. He licks his lips. "This boy's bloody grateful to serve." _This boy._ That came one hell of a lot easier than it usually does.

Bill's never been much of a stickler for formal voice, but he likes the way it sounds coming from Sean. "What kind of a reward do you like, boy?" he asks, sliding a hand down to Sean's neck. "Should I hurt you?"

"Please, sir." Sean rubs up against Bill's hand. "Please, want you to hurt me so much." _I bet he's fucking good at it, too._

Reaching further down, Bill twists one of Sean's nipple rings sharply, watching Sean's face for a reaction. _Oh, yeah, you're gonna be a joy to hurt._

Sean cries out -- the pain's sharper than he expected, but _so good_, and it goes right to his cock and has him panting for breath almost as soon as the cry dies down. "Oh God, oh _God_, thank you, sir," he gasps.

"Kneel up," Bill says, smiling a little as he reaches over to grab his belt off the floor near the bed.

Sean's more than happy to kneel up, settling his arse on his heels and lacing his fingers behind his back. He probably looks puppy-dog eager, which he can't help; he _is_ eager, damn it. He wants this. There's no shame in that.

Still tugging at Sean's nipple ring, Bill smiles at Sean's reaction. "You need this, don't you? Need to hurt for someone, need to go under." There's no condemnation in his voice; on the contrary, he sounds pleased as hell about the whole thing.

"Yes, sir." Sean's voice is full of relief; well, relief mixed with pain, all the right kinds of pain, and he has to force himself to stay still, keep from tugging back to deepen the twist just a little more. _Need this so much._

"Good boy," Bill says, taking up the belt in his free hand, holding it about six inches from the end. With an evil smile, he finally lets go of the ring and puts his hand down, shielding Sean's balls. "Let me know if this is too much," he says, bringing the belt down lightly on the shaft of Sean's cock.

Sean grunts but doesn't move. _Fuck_, that hurts. He's had this done before, but not very often, probably a number of times he could count on one hand, and he's startled and grateful and _intrigued_, for that matter. _What else do you do?_ he wonders, and shoves the thought aside; he'll find out whatever Bill wants to show him this afternoon, and he'll be glad to get all of it.

Determined to push Sean just a little, the next few blows Bill lands are harder. It's a little tricky -- usually he's using a small whip or a specifically designed strap for this -- but he's careful and it's certainly worth it to hear the noises Sean makes and watch the way his cock gets darker with each blow.

The best part about this is realizing jerking off's going to hurt the next time Sean does it. The pain's good, more intense than Sean expected, and even though most people don't go easy on him -- he looks like he's built to take a lot of pain, and he is -- this is harder than he usually gets pushed for a first scene. And he's loving it.

Intrigued by the look on Sean's face, Bill pauses for a minute. "Tell me what you're thinking, how you feel about this." He strokes Sean's cock lightly, indicating which "this" he means.

"I'm thinking..." Sean takes a deep breath. "Thinking it feels damn good, sir, that it's harder than I'm used to getting pushed." He goes red admitting to the last. "I were thinking it's going to hurt jerking off later, and I'm going to love that. Sir."

"Fuck," Bill says after taking a deep breath. "Jesus fucking Christ." It's so goddamn hot to think of Sean, later on, jerking off and hurting and loving it. "One more," he warns, and lands one more hard slap to Sean's cock. "Now on your knees and elbows."

"Yes, sir," Sean says, going back to knees and elbows and grinning maybe a little too broadly. But it's bloody good knowing he's affecting Bill, too, good hearing that kind of reaction out of him. This is turning out to be one of the better scenes he's had in the last month.

The grin looks good on Sean, and Bill thinks he's justified in feeling just a little smug about the fact that he's responsible for it. Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he moves behind Sean and rolls it on. "What do you want?" he asks, bending to bite Sean's ass one more time.

"Your -- _Christ_," Sean pants, the bite hitting him just the right way, "fuck, your cock, please, sir, _please_, may I have your cock?"

"You're gonna get it, boy," Bill says, moving into position. "You're gonna get it with the lube that's left from earlier." And with that, he pushes into Sean, catching his breath when he feels just how tight Sean is.

It's not quite enough to make Sean scream, but it's damned close. He grunts as Bill shoves into him, tilting his hips back and biting into his lower lip. _Oh, Christ, that's so fucking good._

"You like that?" Bill asks, knowing it's a rhetorical question. "Let's see how much you want it." He goes still and slaps Sean's ass. "Go on, fuck yourself on my cock."

_Oh, God._ "Yes, sir," Sean groans, shoving back hard, blushing red as he pushes back and slides forward, hard, deep, imagining what it must look like, how it must feel. _Fucking whore for it, aren't you, Christ, yes, and you love it. Love it._ Sean's moaning with every stroke, cock so hard he's starting to drip.

"That's it," Bill says roughly. "That's the kind of thing I want to see in a boy," he adds, slapping his hand down on one of the bite marks. It gives him an idea, and he bends and bites down hard right over one of Sean's whip marks.

Sean gasps, losing the rhythm for a moment as he recovers from getting pain on top of pain. "Oh, God, _please_," he moans, fisting his hands in the bedcovers and shoving back as hard as he can, getting Bill's cock as deep inside him as he can take. "Please, hurt me, fuck me, fucking shatter me, _please, fuck,_ use me, _please_!"

The words "shatter me" are almost enough to make Bill come, but he holds back, biting down hard on another welt. He wants to shatter Sean but only as much as Sean wants to be shattered. _And if it means taking care of him until he's back together again, that's just fine._

"Hurt for me," Bill says, when he finally raises his head. "And keep hurting ... I'll fucking push you as hard as you need to be pushed." He reaches under and strokes Sean's cock once before moving up to grab and twist one of Sean's nipple rings. The more he does with Sean, the more he can think of things he'd like to do to him. _Chain him to the wall by nothing but his rings and then beat the hell out of him... make him watch a football game with a plug in his ass and a gates of hell on his cock ... have him spend a good long time rimming me with his hands bound behind his back..._

Sean's so close -- so close, and there's no way he's got permission to come, even if he's screaming, begging with every motion of his body, managing to keep from losing his rhythm even through one perfect pain after another. The next scream chokes off in his throat, translates to tears that fall hot and fast over his cheeks, but it's a good feeling, the _right_ feeling, everything Sean wants. _More, God, more, please._

When Bill hears the hitching sound that means that Sean is crying he takes a deep breath, waiting to see if Sean needs to safeword out of the scene. When Sean keeps pushing back, Bill smiles a pleased smile and uses his free hand to grab Sean's hip. "Still now, boy," he says, barely able to speak coherently.

As soon as Sean obeys, Bill starts slamming into him hard, fucking Sean until Bill's just on the edge of coming. Making a quick, almost-instinctive decision, he pulls out and pushes Sean. "Roll over ... on your back," he manages to get out.

Beyond the point of doing anything but obeying, Sean twists and rolls onto his back, spreading his legs wide and stretching his arms up over his head. "Please, _please_, God, please," just words falling all over themselves as Sean keeps begging.

Almost tearing the condom in his haste to get it off, Bill wraps his hand around his cock. "Jerk off for me," he says. "I want to see you hurting while I come." And then he's pumping his cock hard, watching Sean through almost closed eyes.

_Yes, oh God, oh fuck..._ Sean wraps his hand around his cock, crying out -- the rough brush of skin against skin is harsher than he expected, and he can feel every last inch, every single motion. And he still doesn't have permission to come, he realizes, and thank God he realizes it when he does, because it's not too late. He tightens his grip, crying out louder with the next strokes, and his eyes narrow but never quite close -- he wants to watch Bill, wants to see him coming. _Please._

"Fuck," Bill gasps. "Oh, fuck...." And then he's coming hard, all over Sean's stomach and hips, some of it actually landing on Sean's cock and hands. "Fuck," he mutters again, leaning forward and panting hard.

"Oh, God, please, sir, _please_ let me come, _please_," Sean groans, voice so ragged he's almost growling. He doesn't remember the last time he sounded, felt, this desperate.

"Yes," Bill says, sitting back on his heels to watch. "Show me what you look like when you come, boy."

"Oh _thank fucking God thank you sir_," Sean pants out, and that's all; he comes hard, jets streaking his hand, his cock, halfway up his stomach as he grits his teeth together and screams and curses and ends up half-begging and half-thanking Bill for everything. He's winded by the time he's done, his vision spotty, and the minute he can take a full breath, he's caught in that place where laughing and crying are more or less the same thing; he's doing both.

"Good boy," Bill says, watching it all hungrily. _Fuck, he's way down._ It's not a concern -- Bill knows he can take care of someone who's been this far down -- but it's an indication of how far Sean's willing to go. _Unless he thinks this was too much, or once was enough,_ Bill surprises himself by thinking, _I will want to see him again._

"Damn good boy," he says a little louder, settling next to Sean and resting a hand on Sean's chest. "Fucking amazing."

Sean rolls enough to turn toward Bill and curl into him, still panting softly. "So good," he breathes, "so fucking good, thank you so much, God, thank you..."

"I should be thanking you," Bill says, wrapping an arm around Sean. "That was ... fucking great." If this is Sean's idea of clingy, Bill can deal with it just fine.

"Yeah," Sean murmurs, nuzzling against Bill's neck. "Fuck, yeah, that was great." Great and unexpected and damn, Sean loves the Establishment for days like today. Bill's not pushing him away, either, and Sean starts to relax, feeling like he's allowed to curl up this close and stay here. _Thank you._

Bill moves long enough to pull a light blanket over the two of them and then pulls Sean close. "I love that Establishment housekeeping doesn't blink an eye if you ask them to put clean sheets on the bed at any hour of the day," he says with a slight chuckle.

Sean laughs. "Yeah, that's a damn nice thing," he murmurs. "Do you want me to call services for that? I think I might be able to move sometime soon."

"Not until you're ready," Bill replies. "You can borrow my shower and have your clothes sent up or use the bathrobe if you like." He's always rather liked this part and has never had much patience for men who think that cuddling is something only women do. _When you've made someone cry, it's only fair that you let them know that you give a damn about how they feel after._

"Thank you," Sean says, genuinely surprised. He did warn Bill back at the beginning that he's got a tendency to get clingy with his doms these days, but he didn't realize Bill was going to humor him this much, and it's a good feeling. He still wonders if he should speed things up, get himself roughly out of headspace so he and Bill can have that drink and go back to interacting on normal terms, but fuck it -- if Bill's not rushing him, Sean's not going to rush either.

"You need anything? Something to drink, a shower?" Bill asks after a quiet time spent lying comfortably close to Sean. "No need to move anytime soon," he adds, giving Sean's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'm good like this."

Sean stretches out, feeling all the right kinds of soreness in his back, his cock, his arse. "I'd like a shower, if that's all right, sir," he says softly, "and maybe an early dinner, if you don't have other plans?" _You're pushing it, Bean. Oh, fuck it. He's not kicking you out yet._

"That works for me," Bill says easily, propping himself up on one elbow. "If you want to take it that far, I'd like to feed you, but I'll understand if you'd rather start coming up."

"Wow." It's Sean's first reaction, blurted out without thinking. "I... no, I'd like that. I'd like it if you'd feed me. Sir." He can stay like this a while. He doesn't have to think about leaving yet. He may need to leave eventually, but it doesn't have to be right now. It's a relief, and a warm one, and Sean's not going to turn down the offer.

There's something about the way Sean's surprised that makes Bill wonder what the story was with David. _Don't go making any assumptions,_ he tells himself.

"Alright, why don't you order something suitable from room service; I'm good with just about anything but Indian, so pick something you like. I'll go start the shower and you can come join me when your done." Bill leans down and kisses Sean thoroughly. "And have them come up and change the sheets. Most of the time I'm kind of picky about that sort of thing."

"Of course." Sean grins at the kiss -- the easy affection's nice -- and pushes himself upright. After Bill's headed off to the shower, Sean calls room service and has them send up a collection of American-type appetizers, and then there's the matter of the sheets to take care of. Clean sheets after every fuck are definitely an indulgence Sean only lets himself go for when he's at the Establishment, but it's damned nice when he gets them; he can understand why Bill would give him the order.

Bill hums tunelessly as he waits for Sean. He's more than pleased with the scene and finds himself hoping that once Sean comes up, he got what he needed from the scene as well. _I want to see him again,_ Bill thinks. _So much potential there._

This time when Sean heads to the bathroom he does walk; he's up a little further from headspace and he isn't trying so hard to impress Bill, and his knees thank him. He leans up against the doorframe when he gets there, wondering how his marks look, but he's not up quite far enough to start trying to get a glimpse of his back and his arse in the mirror.

"Come on in," Bill says, pulling the shower door open. One thing he's decided about wherever he moves is that it will have showers like this -- big enough for two. "How are you doing?" he asks once Sean's joined him. "Not too sore?"

"Not too sore, sir," Sean says, grinning at the way steam collects in the shower, the way water looks running over Bill's shoulders. _Could be a lot more sore and it still wouldn't be too much,_ he thinks, but it's awkward figuring out how to say that without sounding like he's bragging or criticizing the scene, neither of which is his intention.

"Good," Bill says with a slight smile, reaching for a washcloth. _Let him wonder if I can hurt him more,_ he thinks with a mental smirk as he runs the cloth over Sean's chest. It's a nice chest, attached to a damn nice body, and Bill knows his actions are making it clear that he's doing this as much for him as to get Sean clean.

"_Mmmm._" This isn't making it any easier for Sean to pull back and feel less like clinging to Bill. Maybe that doesn't matter. It just feels good being touched, and it's even better knowing Bill's enjoying it. "Thank you, sir," he murmurs.

"And it's such a hardship," Bill says with a laugh. "Turn around and let me see your back." There are a couple of bruises laid down on Sean's whip marks and Bill presses lightly at one before looking down at Sean's ass where the bite marks stand out against pale skin. "You look good with marks on you."

"I love being marked," Sean admits. Hell, it's an effort not to beg for more attention for his bruises. "Haven't had nearly as much of it as I'd like lately. There've been times I didn't go a week without having new marks. That was nice."

Bill has to stop himself from asking how anyone let Sean get away. He remembers David as he knew him back in Morocco -- a fairly happy-go-lucky vanilla gay boy -- and wonders if David ever managed to approach the level that Sean seems to be looking for. _People change,_ he tells himself, _and I don't get the whole mixing love and kink thing anyway, so what do I know._

"My last boy was a set designer," he says, finishing up with the wash cloth. "It got interesting keeping him bruised below the waist because he liked to take his shirt off when he worked." Unable to resist, he presses Sean against the shower wall. "Want another one?"

"Oh, God, yes," Sean says, leaning into the wall, bracing himself. "Please, sir." Sean's mind is full of images now, thoughts of Bill keeping his boy -- _his last boy, how many has he had?_ \-- bruised below the waist. _Bet his boy's thighs were gorgeous by the time he was done._

"Put your hands up above your head," Bill instructs, and once Sean's done so, Bill bends down and brushes his lips across a spot right below Sean's armpit. Warning given, he bites down hard, sucking up a mark while his hands keep Sean's arms pinned to the shower wall.

Sean's head comes back, but he keeps himself pinned to the wall, arms up. "_Ahh--_ good -- thank you, sir," Sean pants.

If Bill's wishing he could get hard again -- and he is wishing it, quite a lot -- he's guessing that Sean is wishing it just as much. Sean marks up perfectly and the noises he makes are pretty damn good, too. When Bill finally pulls back, there's a bruise that he knows Sean will feel every time he moves his arm and that's good enough for Bill now.

"Ready to get out of here?"

"If sir's ready," Sean says, barely holding back a whimper. "But I'd love to beg for more pain whenever sir's in the mood to let me." _Pain slut._ There's dinner to think of, and they can't stay in the shower forever. It just feels so good getting hurt, and Bill gives off this feeling like he hasn't even gotten started yet.

"Would you now?" Bill asks, pleased. He gives Sean a sharp slap on the ass. "I'll take you up on that, but not in the shower." He steps out and grins. "So you think of pain as a reward, do you boy?"

Surprised by the question, Sean has to give it some thought. "It's a good reward, and it's been good incentive in the past," he says. "But mostly I've had doms who liked hurting me just because they wanted to hurt me. I've been lucky that way, sir."

"They probably think they've been lucky too," Bill says, tossing Sean a towel before drying himself off. "I've always liked using pain as a reward or incentive myself. Well, that and just using it because I really like hurting people."

_I love sadists,_ Sean thinks, drying himself off roughly and feeling a nice curl of heat in his gut from Bill's words. It's always so good running into people who are as matter-of-fact about liking to give pain as Sean is about liking to receive it; that's probably the thing he's most grateful for about belonging to the Establishment. "You're good at it, sir," Sean says. "Do you mind if I ask how long you've been at it?"

"For fucking ever," Bill says with a laugh. "I was a sophomore in college when a lover of mine took me to New York and the leather bars in what people politely call 'the good old days.' I took to it like a duck to water and found myself a topman willing to take me on and train me." He shakes his head. "I'm crap as a sub and I'm not all that wild about pain, although I have a pretty high pain threshold. But I wanted to top, so I was with him for about nine months until I earned my leathers." He looks at Sean seriously. "Haven't gone under since then."

"Wow," Sean murmurs. "And now I'm just wondering how I didn't spot that on you the first time we met. I haven't been at this nearly as long. I always liked it rough, and I always knew a bar or two where I could go to get fucked, but I had my first lover who was into kink about ten years ago and he was the one who figured out how much I like getting hurt. And then later how much I liked going under. I switch sometimes, I've had contracts where I was on top, but it's not where I am now."

"You were only there for a week," Bill says with a laugh. "Had an interesting chat with Christian about you, but the whole thing was so rushed that there wasn't a lot of time to make a move." He reaches out and presses against one of the bruises. "Kinda wish I had."

"You -- _ohh._" Sean leans into Bill's touch again and has to resist the urge to purr. "I'm going to be curious as hell about that chat now, sir," he murmurs, "and back then probably wasn't the best time to make a move anyway." _When is, though?_ Sean wonders. His situation's got different complications now, but it's just as complex.

"Mostly idle speculation," Bill says with a laugh. "I had a boy at the time and Christian ... well, I'm sure you've met Jonny."

"Mmhm." Sean scratches at the back of his neck, grinning as he thinks back. "I did a scene -- a few scenes -- with Christian later on. He's very good."

"He is," Bill agrees, grabbing a black terry cloth robe off a hook on the wall. He's about to say more when there's a knock on the door. "That should be our food and clean sheets."

Getting the door is as much instinct as anything, and Sean lets the boy in and backs off while he gets dinner set up at the small table and makes the bed again. His urge to serve doesn't carry over far enough to help with the setup, but when the boy leaves, Sean goes to his knees at the table's side.

"Alright, let's see if the kitchen managed to make _real_ buffalo wings," Bill says, ruffling Sean's hair as he sits down. "Although anything covered in sauce and then dipped in bleu cheese dressing is only nominally finger food."

"I don't mind a mess if you don't, sir," Sean says, trying not to look too hopeful. While buffalo wings were always more Viggo's kind of food than his, there's something to be said for licking a mess off his dom's fingers.

"Well, let's see what the expert from Buffalo thinks," Bill says before taking a bite. "Not bad. Not really spicy enough, but ... not bad." He picks up a second wing and holds it down to Sean.

There's really no way to nibble at a buffalo wing, but Sean takes a bite and licks his lips afterwards. He can tolerate a pretty high range of spiciness, but he raises an eyebrow at Bill's assessment after tasting one himself. "Like having them burn your tongue off, do you, sir?" he asks.

"They run you out of town on a rail if you don't," Bill says, wiping his fingers before handing a glass of water down. "You can use your hands for that," he says. "And I'll try something less spicy next."

"Thanks," Sean says. "The masochism only goes so far." He grins as he takes a nice long drink. Much better.

"They say that's why people like really spicy stuff," Bill says, feeding Sean a piece of crab cake. "Must be the only masochistic thing about me."

Bill is getting more and more interesting to Sean every time Sean hears another detail. It's been so long since he's been around someone who doesn't switch, doesn't even think about it, that it's startling. And it's making Sean feel greedy. "Is there any chance you'd be willing to do this again?" Sean asks. "And Christ, tell me if I'm overstepping or thinking too far ahead, but..." Sean glances up. "It's not often right now I want to ask for a second scene, and I figured there's little enough to lose by asking."

"You beat me to it," Bill says, resting a hand on Sean's shoulder. "I'd like to see more of what you can give me, how much you can take."

"Thank you, sir," Sean murmurs. "I'd like to give you that."

More than pleased at the way what seemed like a casual afternoon shag turned out, Bill feeds Sean another stuffed mushroom. _So much potential here,_ he thinks, anticipating their next scene. "I won't ask you not to see anyone between now and then," he says. "But when we set a date, I'm going to want you to not come for 48 hours beforehand."

"Oh--" _Wow._ Sean nods before he can get words out. "I'd be happy to give you that," he says. "More than happy to. Do you want anything else from me, sir?"

"Right now? Nothing much," Bill says, after a moment's thought. "I've got some beer in the fridge, you want to have that beer we delayed?"

"Yeah," Sean says firmly; it's the last of what he needs to come up --and now that they're talking about another scene, he thinks it might be a good idea to come all the way back out in order to be in a better place to negotiate. "And as much as I'm enjoying being on my knees for you -- and want to go back there -- I think maybe I'd like to have the rest of this conversation, assuming there's more to have, sitting upright. If that's all right with you?"

"Sure," Bill says. It's easy enough to make the transition from top to host, and as he gets up to get the beers he gestures to the chair opposite his. "There's still a fair amount of food; as nice as it is to feed someone by hand, it's not very efficient."

"It is nice, though. Relaxing." Sean gets up and slides into his seat, looking over the food. The buffalo wings are all Bill's; he'll pick and choose between the rest of it. "I mentioned downstairs I've got some complications. Mainly it's that I'm coming out of my second divorce in two years and my confidence is torn to hell, so I'm moving a little slower than I would've otherwise, and I need more reassurance than I used to. If that's not going to put you off, yeah, I'd love to do this again."

"I'm sorry the divorce was rough," Bill says. It's complicated and a little odd to talk to Sean like this, considering that he knows David a lot better than he does Sean. But neither Bill nor David made any real effort to remain in contact with each other after the last round of pickups for BHD, and Bill feels no huge degree of loyalty to his former coworker.

"What exactly do you mean by reassurance?" he asks. "I don't give praise without cause, but I don't think that will be a problem with you; you're pretty good." Sean is more than pretty good, but this was an impromptu scene and Bill is going to reserve full judgement until he's done something a little more structured.

"Thanks," Sean murmurs. "I don't need praise without cause. To be honest, I don't need much beyond what you've done for me here. Giving me extra time to come up, letting me know I did all right." Sean rubs a hand over his cheek and gives Bill a crooked smile. "I'm used to the pat on the back sort of aftercare, and this is sort of a stretch for me. It feels fucking odd sometimes."

"Depending on the player, that kind of aftercare is fine," Bill says. "But I tend to figure if a boy's made an effort during a scene, I should make an effort after it. Not very 'macho' of me, but at my age, I don't need to prove I'm macho any more."

"Maybe it's got to do with the mental jog between being a boy and just being on my knees for a scene," Sean muses. "It's only lately that I've wanted to go back to formal submission. The last few months or so. Before that I had a long stretch where I wanted to go down but I didn't really want anything more serious than that, anything that lasted outside the scene itself. And now I'm probably unloading too much... how obvious is it that I don't _talk_ about this shite too often?" Sean asks with a grin.

"I didn't talk much about it for a long time, either," Bill says with a reminiscent smile. "Then some impulse provoked me to buy a slave at an auction. I probably learned a lot more from him than he learned from me." He shakes his head. "So no, you're not unloading too much. Sometimes a scene ... kind of shakes stuff loose."

"Yeah." Sean can't help thinking back to the second scene with Valentine now, the one where he realized just how much he was clinging, how hard it was to get up and walk away afterwards. _Shaking stuff loose_ is definitely the right phrase for it. "And thank you for listening. It means a lot."

"I don't mind," Bill says. "Look at it from my point of view; I'm sitting here having a beer and a conversation with a damn good looking naked man. I'm not gonna complain."

Sean nearly chokes on his beer laughing at that. "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir," he says. It occurs to him that it's nice just taking the compliment and not feeling as if he's in competition with someone twenty years younger and prettier than Sean was even at that age. There are subs more graceful and boys more beautiful, but none of them are in this room right now.

"Yeah, well, I tend not give compliments without cause either," Bill says with a broad grin. "There was one thing I wanted to ask," he says, going a little more serious. "Do you have a recent checklist?"

"Oh, God. No, I think my most recent checklist is a couple of years out of date now," Sean says. _Might not even have the knife limit on it. Christ, it's that old._ "Would you like one?"

"That's a hell of a lot to go through," Bill says, thinking. "Tell you what, sometime during the 48 hours before the scene, send me an email with five things off the list that you really like and five things you hate."

"I can do that. Do they need to be workable things or do you just want the list? I mean, things I'm prepared to do or have done, sir? Or are you just looking for the ballpark I prefer to play in?"

"The ballpark right now," Bill says. "Later ... well, let's see if we both want a later." He's a little surprised at his easy assumption that there will be a later, surprised that he wants to see Sean more than twice.

_Ballpark._ Sean nods again, already making lists in his head. He'll be refining them on and off until he gets the word on when their next play date's going to be. He likes the way Bill put it -- _let's see if we both want a later_ \-- which makes it feel as if there's a great deal less pressure on him, on both of them, to have a perfect second scene. "I can do that, sir," he murmurs.

"Great," Bill says, realizing that one of the things he likes about Sean is the way Sean makes it utterly believable that he'll do as he's told. _He may not have confidence in himself, but he's got me having confidence in him._

"Anything else?" he asks, finishing off his beer. "Or are you ready to convince me to follow your team instead of Man U while I'm here?"

Sean laughs. "Now what could be more important than making sure you follow the right football club?" And his eyes sparkle at that. There are some ways that it's damned good being home again.

_-end-_


End file.
